


cake by the ocean

by enbyofdionysus



Series: the self-indulgent fics [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Anal, Bondage, Edging, Finger Sucking, Fingering, Gang Bang, I want to make it very clear that Percy is consenting this entire time, Incest, M/M, Nipple Play, Objectification, Oral Sex, Un-Negotiated Kink, Verbal Humiliation, cloth gagging, overall sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 10:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12768627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: "It's been quite a while on the seas," Chrysaor said in a sing-song voice. His eyes were on fire with whatever bluff he had in mind. "The boys are beginning to get a little hungry."Percy realized what he meant."Then I'll feed them my blade," he said, his voice intentionally soft and intentionally vicious.He saw Chrysaor shudder.And then the captain said, "Grab him."





	cake by the ocean

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third self-indulgent, intensely-kinky fic I've written so what happened in the Upstate Sexhibition fic and the Percy/Apollo/Hermes fic like... prepare for that.

The floor swayed.

Percy grunted, holding onto the side of Chrysaor's desk as he rummaged through the drawers. The cabin was dark save for the beams of sunlight creeping in from the small, round windows. "It's a silver trident," Hazel had told him before they left him on deck. "About thumb-sized. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"I'll be fine," Percy had assured her. "One person will be easier to hide than two."

The trident was what they needed to persuade the sea goddess, Brizo, to let them pass through the Hudson Strait. "Your awful brother, Chrysaor, stole it from me centuries ago," she'd told them. "If you want safe passage, I want _that_ as my sacrifice. I will accept nothing else."

But so far Percy wasn't having much luck finding it. He'd checked the series of trunks Chrysaor had lined along the walls, but they were all filled with parchment, skulls, and jewels. No silver trident. His last hope was the desk before he began moving about the ship. He'd have to find one of the crew members and knock them out, steal their clothes to disguise himself.

He opened the middle door of the desk and flipped through some papers, his eyes searching, searching, searching.

"Well, well," came a voice.

Percy went rigid.

He turned slowly, hand going to his pocket on instinct. Chrysaor stood in the doorway, his captain's coat lost in the summer heat. He was left in a soft, willowy shirt made temporarily crisp by the salt of the waves. The collar was opened wide and his pants fit him tight enough so he looked almost like a man _dressed_ as a pirate rather than a _real_ pirate.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a rat, boys," Chrysaor said, smiling. He pulled a knife from his pocket. He looked, Percy thought, like a surreal image of himself. Older, with a short and surprisingly well-kept beard. But his eyes, the same surging shade of green as his own, were somehow more startling, more fearsome.

Percy clutched at Riptide at the same time two more men appeared behind Chrysaor. The son of Medusa grinned a wicked grin. "What are you going to do, brother?" he asked. "Fight us?"

He had a point.

The room was too small for Percy to properly swing his sword and he only knew so much hand-to-hand combat. He swallowed hard.

Chrysaor didn't miss it. His grin widened horribly and he stepped forward. Percy had never understood the word "swagger" until now. He'd thought he'd seen Apollo walk that way before when he had too many cocktails. But when Chrysaor did it, it was its own kind of threat.

"You know," said Chrysaor. He stood in front of him now, nearly a head taller. He smelled like the ocean, but also faintly like sweat. His eyes flickered down Percy's face and then back up to his eyes. "Coming aboard my ship takes a lot of guts. We could use those on my crew."

It took a moment for Percy to realize what was being suggested. He muttered, "I would never."

Chrysaor's cocked his head. "Never?" he repeated. "Funny, I don't remember asking you for your permission." He reached up and gently tugged at one of Percy's curls. "Rumor has it you've been spending some quality time with the gods."

Percy felt his face go red. He scowled.  "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's been quite a while on the seas," Chrysaor said in a sing-song voice. His eyes were on fire with whatever bluff he had in mind. "The boys are beginning to get a little hungry."

Percy realized what he meant.

He had a flashback, for a moment, to when Hermes was on his knees in front of him in a public restroom. When the door was unlocked and anyone could have walked in. When anyone could have seen and watched Percy Jackson unravel. It had been a fantasy he'd had on multiple nights alone in his room. And while he'd quenched his thirst with Apollo and Hermes in his apartment that one night months ago, this…

This was different.

Something changed in Chrysaor's face as if he could sense Percy's body warming with something other than fear. His smile slid from his lips, somehow surprised that Percy wasn't intimidated, terrified. It had, as Percy had known, only been a bluff. But then his eyes flickered over Percy's face questioningly.

And Percy held his eyes.

"Then I'll feed them my blade," he said, his voice intentionally soft and intentionally vicious.

He saw Chrysaor shudder.

And then the captain said, "Grab him."

**

Chrysaor walked in front as the two crewmembers held Percy firm. The hallways were dark and smelled of the ocean even though they were far from the Atlantic.

Percy knew they were bringing him to the front deck and so he tried to memorize the walls to remember his way back to Chrysaor's cabin if need be. But it was difficult to look for flaws in the wood when one crewman began to play with Percy's right nipple as they walked.

Percy couldn't do anything about it -- the other crewman had his hands fiercely bound -- nor did he really want to. If anything, it helped light the fire that he was expecting Chrysaor and his crew to put out. A fire that had begun as a small trace of gunpowder, but was now dragging a heat like syrup through his veins.

This was something he had talked about once before with Hermes and Apollo, but never seriously. He wasn't sure if he would be able to look the gods of Olympus in the eye again if he let Apollo tie him to something and let Hermes, Hephaestus, Ares, Dionysus, _Zeus_ , and the other minor deities use him mindlessly. It was too personal, too raw.

But Chrysaor's crew.

Percy didn't care for Chrysaor's crew.

Didn't care for their opinions, their hurtful words, their sneers. It was the same as if Percy were being tied up to be used by a faceless crowd. And _that_. _That_ was what Percy wanted. The gods saw him as a powerful, but altogether small and meaningless demigod. If they made him feel like nothing, it wouldn't itch the scratch he had under his skin. It would only add to years of self-hatred that were already towering with files.

But Chrysaor himself had said they could use someone like Percy on their crew. They had met before, fought before. Chrysaor didn't like him, but he respected him. Saw him as an equal. And that was why Percy let himself be led down a dark and narrow corridor. Why he let a crewman pluck and squeeze at his nipple, making his cock hard in his jeans.

Because when Chrysaor let his crew fuck him until he couldn't take it anymore and then kept going, when Chrysaor would make him feel less than human and more like a toy, when Chrysaor turned his body into something useful only for them, Percy knew when all was said and done he would still be Percy Jackson.

And Chrysaor would still see him that way.

"Stop playing with it," the crewman on Percy's left snapped quietly. "Wait until we tie it up."

The right crewman pouted. "But I want to play with these." He reached for Percy's left nipple and gave it a gentle, circular stroke through his shirt.

Percy let out a small sound. The left crewman rolled his eyes.

"Captain," he called, "should we gag it?"

It took a moment for Percy to realize the 'it' was him. His body flushed so hot he felt cold. His cock, already hardening along his pant-leg, fattened considerably.

"No," Chrysaor said without turning around. "He'll be loud enough that he'll gag himself eventually. Until then, it would just be blocking another hole."

Percy let out a breathy sound that gained Chrysaor's attention. The pirate glanced back at him, his expression cool and calculated for the benefit of the crewmen and his eyes fierce and hot and, somehow, hesitant for the benefit of Percy's.

And then Percy realized the look wasn't a _look_ , but a question.

Percy gave a tiny, but noticeable nod.

Chrysaor turned back around.

**

"Dinos," Chrysaor said as they stepped out onto the deck.

The sun was hidden behind a series of clouds, casting the ship in a cool light. The waves, dark and calm, made the floor gently sway beneath them. Various crew members were on deck taking care of the masts and ropes. A few were playing cards. The crewman on Percy's left, Dinos, looked up at the captain's call.

"Play with our guest while Iantos and I find ropes," said Chrysaor. "Make sure he understands his place on this ship tonight."

Dinos gave his captain a salute and, once left alone with Percy, he bared his teeth down at him with a vicious smile. "Get up against the wall," he ordered.

For the fun of it, Percy puffed up in defiance. "Make me."

He expected Dinos to slam him against the wall, to grab his hair and wrench it back. Instead, his fingers clamped hard on Percy's nipples to keep him still as he leaned in incredibly close. His beard tickled Percy's neck and his tongue gave a slow, disgusting swipe across his ear. "If you want lube in your hole while the captain fucks you," he whispered, "you'll get up against the wall."

Percy hissed as Dinos released his chest. Then, under the pirate's fierce gaze, he carefully aligned himself face-to-face with the wall beside the staircase leading up to the wheel.

There was the familiar sound of a weapon being drawn and Percy had only a second to tense before Dinos cut at the short piece of rope binding Percy's wrists.

"Hands up toward the railing," Dinos said.

Percy gave a shuddering breath and lifted his hands up along the wall. He felt the kiss of the warm summer air along his skin as Dinos tugged his t-shirt up, and then shuddered when the crewman's knife sliced the shirt away. He tore the sleeves from his arms and then went down to his jeans. Again, the knife sliced them away as if they were paper rather than denim.

Percy tried not to shiver. The feeling of the sea breeze on his bare, exposed legs and back made everything feel that much more real, made the delicate tickle of Dinos' fingers cascading over the insides of his thighs that much more exciting.

"Spread your legs," Dinos said.

Percy shifted his feet. He shuddered at the sensation of Dinos spreading his cheeks apart. There was a catcall somewhere down the deck. Dinos patted his ass. "Stay like this," he said.

And then he was gone.

Percy swallowed, waiting.

The catcalls were increasing now and there were a series of sharp whistles far closer than before. For a brief moment, Percy was overcome with nerves. And then Dinos returned without so much as a greeting and slid his fingers down between Percy's cheeks.

"What," Percy choked, and then groaned when Dinos' fingers pressed tight against his hole. They pulled away a second later, then returned again slicker and wetter. They rudely rubbed along the rim, then shoved their way inside, then out again. Dinos' fingers once more pulled away and returned with more lube.

It was sloppy and overly wet, but Percy knew it was because he would be taking far more crewmen than just Dinos and Iantos. The sound of curious foot falls nearby were evidence enough.

When Dinos had managed to squeeze in three fingers, pushing them roughly up to the knuckle every time, an unfamiliar voice said beside them, "What's this?"

Percy strained to see, but he only caught a glimpse of a series of black swirling tattoos and another beard.

"Gift from Chrysaor," Dinos replied. He pulled his fingers back to apply more lube, but before he could return, the stranger's fingers shoved their way in instead.

Percy gasped at how cold they were. The crewman's thumb pinched at his rim. "Gift, huh?" he asked.

"Enough," Dinos said and swatted at the crewman's hand. "We're not to begin before the captain does."

The stranger snorted, but pulled out his fingers and wiped them messily through Percy's hair. Then, as if just noticing Percy's face, the stranger made an appreciative noise. "This one's cute." His fingers reached for Percy's face. He gave his cheeks a squeeze as he turned Percy's head for a better look. "Do we get to use the mouth?"

"That's up to the captain," Dinos replied.

The crewman snorted again. "We better. Last thing I want is a gaping hole after thirty of the others have used it."

"It'll still be tight," Dinos argued.

"Doubt it," said the crewman. He ran his thumb over Percy's lower lip before removing his hand and disappearing back down the deck.

"Doubt it," mocked Dinos as he pushed in another handful of lube. Some of smeared down Percy's thighs. "Do me a favor," he said and it took a moment for Percy to realize he was speaking to him. "If you can remember the sound of that bastard's voice, don't moan for him."

Percy let out a laugh before he could stop himself and was rewarded with another handful of lube. By the time Iantos appeared on the deck above to tie Percy's hands to the rail, Dinos patted Percy's ass to indicate he was ready.

“Gather 'round, boys,” Chrysaor commanded from the second deck. He was close enough to touch Percy's hands with his boots.

It took several minutes for the entire crew to assemble around the main deck, but only a few seconds for Percy to feel extremely vulnerable. Iantos had thrown Dinos the rope he'd used to tie Percy's hands and now his legs were also bound – one to the railing along the staircase beside him and the other to a post on his right. He was stripped bare and spread open entirely for the use of the crew.

Percy's heart thrummed with the thrill of it.

“We caught ourselves a rat on board,” Chrysaor began and he brought his leg up to rest on the banister to indicate Percy as if anyone on the deck were unaware of the naked man. “Now since we've been away from land for quite some time, I thought it only fair to share this rat with you all.”

There were jeers and laughs and several whistles.

“But before I let you boys have your fun,” Chrysaor continued, and at this, he swept a dangerous eye over the crowd, “I want to make it clear that there's to be nothing more than the standard. As soon as the sun hits the water, the boy is mine. No scarring. No biting. No knives. Is that clear?”

“Aye, captain!” shouted the crew.

Chrysaor removed his leg from the banister. “Well, then, boys,” he said, “do as ye will.” And then he sat down on a wooden chair directly across from Percy, giving him the perfect view of his face. “Dinos, Iantos,” he said, “you two have first go.”

The crew didn't get into a line to wait for their turn as Percy had imagined they would. Instead, they stayed in a jumbled kind of mob laughing and jeering. As Dinos' rough hands returned to Percy's hips, another man reached forward and grabbed his nipple in a tight squeeze. It was only for a second, but it hurt, and Percy let out a disgruntled sound.

But Dinos didn't refuse his crewmates this time. As if Percy's curses were encouragement, he pulled his cock from his trousers and lined the tip up against Percy's lube-slick hole. He clamped a hand on Percy's shoulder. Snapped, "Breathe." And then thrust _forward_.

Percy had never been so ballsy to be too rough with his own toys. Sure, after a few minutes, he might force his left hand to push his dildo in a little harder than usual, but never on the first push. He was always too worried about pain, about causing a tear, so he'd always pushed in slow, slow until the toy was deep enough to make him gasp.

Dinos didn't care about pain or causing a tear.

Dinos shoved.

And shoved.

And _shoved_.

Percy had been right. There was some pain. But Dinos had worked him enough and used enough lube that within seconds Percy couldn't restrain the smile from breaking across his face.

"The cunt's fucking grinning!" shouted one of the crewmen. There were hoots and whistles at that. Heat pooled dangerously low in Percy's gut.

Dinos took no notice. His hand on Percy's shoulder didn't let up or tighten. It merely held him firm as the crewman moved. His thrusts were steady and deep. A man somewhere shouted at him to hurry up. Dinos didn't hurry.

His cock dragged rhythmically across a spot Percy hadn't touched before. Heat flushed across Percy's chest, his cock. He gasped, " _Oh_."

He felt his balls draw up.

And then Dinos pulled out with a grunt.

"Wait," Percy protested, but then Dinos came across his back with a low moan. Percy closed his eyes, his lips tightening. He felt cum dribble down across his ass. His orgasm had ebbed. Chrysaor was smirking down at him now.

Before Percy could say something, though, a hand slapped his ass and made him yelp. Iantos slid his cock inside without warning, fast and sharp. Percy swore, his hands grasping at the rail above him. He felt someone's hands spreading his ass. Someone spit on his hole. Someone spit on his face.

And then, sudden and urgent, Percy found himself chasing another orgasm. Iantos' painful jack-rabbiting thrusts were suddenly intense. Percy _moaned_.

A man with thick, tattooed fingers shoved three of them into Percy's mouth. He was going to cum. He was going to cum.

Iantos slid out with another slap to Percy's ass. Percy felt more cum slide down between his thighs and now he realized why the crewman's fingers tasted so salty. Percy's face went red. A red-bearded man came up to drag blunted nails across his chest. Percy made a frustrated sound around the fingers and twitched when the red-headed man reached down to touch his cock.

But Percy didn't cum when the man touched him, didn't cum when his lips filthy things about his hole in his ear like he wasn't a person. His cock simply stayed fat and heavy between his legs.

The next cock inside of him was too thick. But Percy was the only one to think so. The man behind him simply grunted a few times and seemed to think the resistance of Percy's hole as something cute. The red-headed man's fingers circled one of Percy's nipples, distracting him for a moment, and then once again an orgasm surged from nowhere, desperate and fierce.

"Please," Percy said.

The red-headed man's fingers slid to the other nipple. _Roll_. _Roll_. _Roll_.

"You heard it," said the tattooed crewman. He slid his fingers from Percy's mouth and wiped the spit off on Percy's face, his neck. "Get on in there."

The crewman behind him assented. What would have been agonizing was now euphoric. Percy felt the stretch and moaned for it, face growing hot as the crowd whistled. A finger was shoved in alongside the cock. He was so close. The red-headed man kept circling his nipples. Chrysaor's gaze on him was heavy.

His balls drew up.

Percy's mouth hung open.

Nothing happened.

The crewman fucked, fucked, fucked away and then emptied himself on Percy's back. Percy didn't cum. Another man shoved themselves into him. He didn't cum. Another cock. He didn't cum. Another. Another. Another.

Somewhere around 16 cocks, Percy noticed something moving. His eyes struggled to focus -- someone had wiped cum across his face and the smell of it was taunting -- and when they did they found Chrysaor wiggling his fingers at him.

Percy frowned, confused.

Chrysaor pointed at Percy. Then raised his fingers up, up. And suddenly Percy was going to cum. His ass tried to grab onto the long cock fucking into it. His nipples hardened. His toes curled. His mouth wanted a cock inside of it, gagging him.

Chrysaor slowly brought his fingers down.

Percy's orgasm disappeared as soon as it came. His nerves screamed. His legs were tired. Percy spat, "You son of a--"

Chrysaor raised his fingers.

" _Please_ ," Percy moaned, his grip on the railing tight. His legs were already spread wide, but he wanted them wider. The man behind him was replaced with another one, his thrusts angry and brutal. Percy loved it. He told him so.

"Shut the fuck up," the crewman spat.

Chrysaor's smile was sickly sweet.

Percy's orgasm was there. It was _there_.

"I said shut the fuck _up_ ," growled the crewman. " _Hera_. Someone get me a rag!"

Percy felt someone drag a piece of cloth across his back. That same cloth was then promptly shoved into his mouth. It tasted like cum and sweat. The man who put it there had a shaved head and an anchor tattooed next to his eye. He patted Percy's face roughly and squeezed his cheeks together. "Only one hole open at a time, yeah?" the man said. He patted Percy's face again. "We'll use this one later."

Percy's cock dripped.

Chrysaor hadn't brought his fingers down, but he wasn't letting Percy finish either. "I knew you'd enjoy this, Jackson," he said. He leaned further back in his chair and put a heavy boot up onto the rail. Percy could see the swell of his cock in his trousers. "I had to make it a punishment _somehow_."

Percy called Chrysaor a foul word, but it was muffled around the rag.

Chrysaor took his took off the railing and leaned forward, forward. He still smelled like the sea and sweat, but there was something else there too. Like cedarwood. Had he put on cologne? "What was that, hole?"

Percy's face went _red_ at the word. His cock twitched without any help from magic. Chrysaor noticed.

"Perhaps we should get a mask for you while you're here," Chrysaor said. His voice was low and taunting and it pressed buttons far deeper than the large cock fucking his ass at that moment. "One of those nice mortal ones that zip all the way up with only holes for your nose. That way there'd be no mistake that you're anything but a fleshlight."

Percy's thighs trembled. His ears were hot. The crewman behind him had found his prostate, but he was sure the only way he was hitting it was by accident. None of these men here cared about him getting off. None of them cared if he was comfortable. He would be used until he wasn't usable anymore.

Percy was cumming.

At least, he was.

And then Chrysaor put his fingers down.

Percy sobbed.

"A hole cums when I decide to let it cum," Chrysaor said. His voice was still mockingly sweet. "But I don't think holes _can_ cum. So who am I to give you false promises?"

Percy snorted around the rag.

Chrysaor grinned. "Looks, like you're in for a long night, Jackson." He called out, "Medus, here!"  
  
A slightly younger crewman appeared beside them. He had dark brown curls that matched his eyes and despite the horrid scars that marred his face he was surprisingly handsome. "Captain?" Medus asked.

Chrysaor gave a sly look to Percy. "Medus, how would you like to be the only one to fuck our captive twice?"

Medus, stunned, looked from Chrysaor to Percy. "Captain?" he asked uncertainly.

"Pericus says you're good with your mouth." Chrysaor nodded to Percy. "I want you to suck its cock. And make it good."  
  
Percy grunted. He couldn't close his legs.

Medus licked his lips. He chirped, "Yes, captain." And then sank to his knees.

Percy watched, yelling around the gag. Yet another crewman pushed inside him, his thrusts slow and dangerous. It made Medus' mouth that much more terrible: warm and soft, his lips like pillows around the tip.

Percy shouted to Chrysaor around his gag. It was too good. It was all _too good_.

But Chrysaor merely sat back in his chair and smiled.

**

By the time there were only three crewmen left, Percy's body was shaking. Medus' enthusiasm for his cock hadn't disappeared for the entire hour and a half despite the fact that Percy knew his jaw had to be aching.

Percy still hadn't cum, but his desire for it hadn't been taken away either. Chrysaor kept his orgasm right at the edge, ready to rush through him at any moment. The problem was knowing that it wasn't going to happen.

It wasn't going to happen despite Medus' tongue tickling the underside of his cock, his palms fondling his balls.

It wasn't going to happen despite the 38th cock in Percy's ass sending his body to flame as if it were the first as if he didn't have cum dripping down between his thighs and over his back.

It wasn't going to happen despite Iantos returning on deck to play with his chest torturously while whispering nastily into his ear that he would be his tit slave once Percy joined their crew.

It was only when Medus finished inside his ass and headed down into the depths of the ship for dinner that Percy's hopes returned. The sun had set and the lake was chilly. His nipples beaded, sore and used. He was sagging a little against the railing, too tired to stand, but his legs were stilled tied to the posts.

There was the sound of wood creaking as Chrysaor descended the steps. Percy turned his head slowly in their direction and gently closed his eyes at the sight of the captain. He'd removed his shirt so now all that was left was cascading brown skin.

Chrysaor took the rag from Percy's mouth and tossed it to the floor.

"Please," Percy whispered.  
  
Chrysaor gazed at him for a moment. And then lifted another rag and carefully wiped Percy's face. It was cool with water. "If you want to cum," he muttered, "you have to beg first."

Percy nodded, too tired to complain. "Please let me cum."

Chrysaor rolled his eyes and disappeared from view. Percy could feel him wiping the cloth down his shoulders, his back, and finally his thighs. "Better than that."

Percy huffed but tried to think back to the night he'd spent with Apollo and Hermes. They'd wanted him to beg too. "Please," he said again and then added, "captain." Chrysaor's hands stopped moving. "Holes can't cum without a captain's permission. Please, captain. Permission to cum, captain."

There was silence. And then, oh so gently, two fingers slid inside Percy's ass. Percy made a small, surprised sound, pressing back against them. But they weren't just there for a stretch. Chrysaor pushed his hand forward so his knuckles pinched at the skin just under Percy's balls. And then the two fingers pressed down.

Percy's _moaned_.

Chrysaor smiled and pressed a kiss on Percy's shoulder blade. As his fingers moved, Percy felt his orgasm building again and building and _building--_

"Yes," Percy cried, triumphant, tensing his legs, tears in his eyes.

Chrysaor pulled his fingers away.

The orgasm left with him.

"Fucking," Percy shouted, " _bitch_!"

Chrysaor laughed, loud and joyful. "Did you really think I was going to let you cum this time?" he asked. "I found you in my _study_ , Jackson. Even if a hole gets permission to cum, snoops will never get it."

"Chrysaor!"

Chrysaor pinched the skin of his ass and laughed again.

Percy swore and then swore again as his orgasm built.

And left.

And built.

And left.

"I think I've found your spot in Tartarus, Jackson," Chrysaor said, voice delighted. "Aboard my ship for eternity, opening your holes for the boys. What did Iantos say earlier? That your _little titties would be happy to be his_? We could make that happen. In fact, I think Iantos was right. I think you would be happy to be a tool on this ship if it meant you finally get to cum. Which I might let happen after the first thousand years."

Percy cried as his orgasm built, built. And stayed there, right on the edge.  
  
"What do you say, Jackson?" Chrysaor whispered, voice hot in his ear. "You want to be a part of the crew?"

Percy's breath was a ragged sound. His heart was loud in his ears. He spat, " _Never_."

Chrysaor grinned.

And Percy came.

**

The stars were twinkling overhead when Percy could open his eyes again. He knew by the swaying of the boat that he was still aboard Chrysaor's ship. Turning his head, he looked around. The deck was bare. He was laying on a bench.

"Look who finally made it back to the world of the living."

Percy turned back and looked up to see Chrysaor sitting beside him. His captain's coat was covering his torso, but he hadn't put his shirt back on. After a moment, Percy realized it was because _he_ was wearing it.

Carefully, Percy sat up. He grimaced.

"It's ointment," Chrysaor said, misreading his face. "Not cum. I had you cleaned up."  
  
Percy said, "Oh," and tried to figure out what that meant.  
  
Chrysaor sighed. "I meant what I said. About you becoming a part of our crew." He eyed him sideways. "But not like that." He looked up towards the stars. "You can be a terrible opponent, Perseus. I like that in people. It's that terror that'll keep you alive."

"Why did you keep me safe?" Percy asked. "During the…? I know you were playing along too, but."

Chrysaor snorted. "There are monsters, Jackson. And then there are _monsters_."

Percy thought of that. And then he nodded.

"You were good," Chrysaor said after a moment.

Percy snorted. "Thanks. You were too."

"I'm always good at torture." Another minute passed. A seagull screamed somewhere above them. Percy tried to locate it in the dark.

"Listen," Chrysaor said and Percy turned to look at him. The son of Medusa looked eerily like their father. By the way Chrysaor was watching him, he knew his brother was thinking the same of him. "If you ever," here he hesitated, "change your mind…"

Chrysaor trailed off as he reached up and pulled something off his neck. It was a small, silver trident on a long, silver chain. Percy's eyes focused on it. Chrysaor leaned forward. He draped it over Percy's neck. "You know where to find me."

Percy stared down at the necklace, then back up Chrysaor. "Does this mean I'm yours or something?"

Chrysaor gave a shark-toothed grin. "As if you'd ever let anyone own you, Jackson."

They shared a smile.

Then Chrysaor stood and cleared his throat. "Tell your friends that if they ever think they can sneak around my boat again, they're fish bait."

"And what about me?"

Chrysaor spat on the deck. "If I see you going through my stuff again, I'll tie your mouth open in the crew's quarters and they can use you as a urinal."

There was silence.

Chrysaor glanced at him. And then snorted, loud. " _Di Immortales_ , Jackson."

"I didn't say anything."

"It's on your _face_. Visit a _temple_." Chrysaor crossed the deck to the door leading down into his captain's quarters. Just before he opened the door, Percy called out to him.

"I just," Percy began, and then finished, "thank you."

Chrysaor stared. Then, "You have cum in your hair." He went down the steps and shut the door.

Percy grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please comment!


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